Actual Reality
by Donner Dumott Schunard
Summary: Second place on speedrent. Collins connects his teaching to his own mortality.


Well, sucess! This fic came in second place on speedrent! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I only own the speech and Ellie.

**Actual Reality**

**By Donna**

Collins mumbled a string of "fucks" as he opened the door to his classroom. He never thought of himself as a punctual person, but this was ridicules. He looked at his watch. Fifteen minutes late. As if his choke chain at MIT couldn't be any shorter.

He felt the students eyes on him and he sighed. "Sorry I'm late," he uttered, throwing his bag and files on his desk. The contents spilled out, sprawling across the desk and on the ground. He stared in disbelief. Only him.

"I'll get that!" a young brunette girl yelled, jumping up. Someone snorted, "Teacher's pet..." She darted a glance at him and bent down to pick up Collins' things. She picked up a planner, a class list, a few tests, and a... blood test? She blinked several times, glancing at the typed-up form. It clearly said "Thomas B. Collins" on it. It also clearly said it was a test for HIV. She tried to see if she could get one last scan of the paper before she had to give it back. Pos... he was positive. She shook as she handed everything back to Collins, wiping her hands on her pants. Collins looked at it and smiled. "Thank you, Ellie!" he said, clearly grateful, and added, "You can sit down now."

Ellie sat down, clearly distracted. Her college professor had HIV. He was still fairly young, late twenties. Did this mean he was gay? How was he able to handle this news so easily?

"Okay!" Collins said, throwing his things into a mishmash pile. "Today we're going to be learning about mortality and technology of today."

Everyone's eyes widened. "What?"

"Oh, come on," Collins said, "It's not that difficult. As we all know, people are living longer... well... sort of. We now have deadly diseases that we didn't, oh, ten years ago, but I digress. People are living longer. People are living longer because of technology. We have people with hearts of baboons, artificial limbs, and advanced surgeries that do not include a saw and a wing and a prayer. With this also comes things like life support and other machines and artificially make people live, to say the least. The question is whether or not this is morally wrong.

"I personally see this as no real issue. I think that everything that is happening in the world today was supposed to happen for a reason. I don't see why we can't use it. It's all a part of 'actual reality.'"

A collective moan rang through the classroom. Ellie didn't say anything, tapping her pencil on the desk.

"_Yes_," Collins said, "Actual reality. The truth. Real life. Not science fiction. Not what politicians want you to see, actual reality. There are people who do, in fact, want to live by machine, by computer even, just to say that they lived. People think that way. But then there's these Christians with these notions that everything should be taken into 'God's hands' and all we can do is watch. That's not fair. That's not right. If we left everything in God's hands there simply wouldn't be people in the world. You know... you know AIDS?"

"Yes," one or two people said.

"Well, there's still no cure. It's been around for about fifteen years, but there is still no cure. But there's medication that can add years to your life. Sure, most people contract it out of negligence, but to generalize is simply not fair. Is it bad to make a cure? Is it bad to use technology, and money, to find a cure to this? People are suffering. People are dying. What draws the line between too-much and just enough?" Collins leaned on his desk and hoped that it sunk into his student's heads. "Okay. I want you all to write a seven page essay on this. Okay? No more than seven... well... okay, I'll allow seven-n-a-half, but no more, no less. Write it here, type it up. And please, do me a favor, don't white-out half of it. Please?" Snickers. "Good. Get to work."

Sometimes it was the only way to shut them up. After thirty minutes more of pencil scratching and rubber erasing, it was time for them to go. Collins' words still resonated in Ellie's head. She was scared for him. Could she go up to him and say something? Should she? If he found out she was looking at his things, he had every right to fail her. She bit the bullet and stood up. "P... Professor?"

Collins looked up from his construction boot he was tying. "Yeah?"

Ellie cleared her throat. "That was a really great speech."

"Why, thank you, Ellie."

"I'm... I'm worried for you."

Collins stopped playing with his boot. "You know?"

"Yeah... I know. Uhm... I'm sorry... I..."

"Hey, it's okay."

"What are you going to do?"

"Just live. Live off of technology. It's all I got."

Ellie nodded. "Okay... if you... if you say so."

Collins smiled. "You're a sweet girl. You know that?" He avoided contact with her. "Ellie, you don't have to worry about me, alright? 'Sides, I'm gonna blow this popsicle joint soon."

"Where will you go?"

"To New York City... maybe NYU. It's my home and it's calling me back."

"...Oh." She sighed. "I guess if you're happy..."

"Yep. Don't you worry about me." He flashed a wide smile. "Everything's gonna be fine for me. You just work on that essay, okay?"

She nodded, smiling back. "O-okay! I will!"

**END**


End file.
